When the Cliches Have You
by Chance2
Summary: Aliens made them do it...right? Carter learns just how different her new post may be. General S4 spoilers. Team fic written for a Halloween challenge over at all hallows fic on LJ. Reviews are love!


Title: When the Cliches Have You

Rating: PG-13, just to be safe

Warnings: A little sexual innuendo

Spoilers: General S4 spoilers, takes place somewhere between 4x02 and 4x04.

Genre: Humor

Summary: Aliens made them do it….right?

A/N: This was written for the allhallowsfic challenge over on LJ. My prompt was 'succubus/incubus'. Let's just say I took some liberties. This is not what I planned on writing but the original idea became too long and cumbersome and my time became very scarce. The original may yet be written when I have a little more time, but this will have to do for now. Not really very Halloween-esque but I had fun writing it.

* * *

Colonel Samantha Carter leaned back in her chair and surveyed the four figures in front of her with a distinct air of misgiving. "There has to be some mistake."

"No mistake, Colonel," Colonel Sheppard replied.

"None," Rodney agreed.

Ronon rumbled something that seemed to agree as well.

"Believe me, Colonel, we wish that there had been some mistake," Teyla said, her eyes on the reports they had just handed over.

"Are you _really_ trying to tell me that aliens made you do it?" Colonel Carter asked.

"Well, the details are still fuzzy," Sheppard said in a tight voice, "but, basically, yeah. Our options were limited apparently."

"Sex or death?" Carter asked, just to make sure that she had all the facts straight, and to double-check that her preoccupation with a geographically distant boyfriend wasn't playing tricks on her hearing.

The four nodded.

It just didn't make sense. Carter had heard plenty of bogus rumors about planets where hapless explorers had been given such unlikely ultimatums, largely because Jack had made most of them up. But logically it just didn't make anthropological sense for native people to force outsiders to participate in fertility festivals or any other such ceremonies on pain of death (and, really, fertility festivals were far more rare than certain SGC personnel claimed). Sure, there were some times when Sam would've been more than happy to oblige if such a case had arisen but none ever had, nor had she heard of any peoples who made such demands. And even if her nearly eleven years experience roaming the galaxy wasn't sufficient to bring her into contact with such a planet, Vala's lifetime certainly was (especially considering that Vala would have sought out such a place, and perhaps tried to disguise herself and return several times over). And if Vala had never mentioned it, it couldn't have happened.

Then again, this was Atlantis. Different galaxy, different rules. For all Sam knew, this might've been a monthly occurrence that Dr. Weir had left out of her transmissions to Earth to save her exploration teams the embarrassment (although Sam knew, in all likelihood, if word of this had ever gotten out, the Marines would have stampeded in order to put in their reassignment requests).

Carter carefully examined each face for any trace of insincerity. They had come back each telling similar tales of alien possession and subsequent sexual exploitation. To their credit, their stories weren't so exact that they came off as rehearsed. She wouldn't have put it passed them to try to pull one over on her. But, no, they all seemed sincere. Colonel Sheppard was clenching his jaw so tightly that Sam could practically hear bones crunching. Rodney hadn't been able to meet her eyes since they came back through the Gate and consequently was spending all of his time staring at his shoelaces. Teyla was holding herself so stiffly she looked as though the weakest breeze might knock her over. She was grasping her hands tightly behind her back as though she were a nervous elementary student about to give a presentation on photosynthesis. Ronon, for his part, didn't appear fazed in the least. He actually looked a little smug.

Sam flipped open the top report - Sheppard's - and skimmed it one more time.

"Well," she said finally. "Dr. Keller checked you out?"

"Tests all came back clean," Sheppard assured her. "But she advised that we might want to sign ourselves up for a few sessions with Heightmeyer."

"I think that's probably a good idea. Everything seems to be in order then, I guess."

Sam wondered if there was something a good leader was supposed to say in this situation. 'Just think: now you don't have to do anymore team-bonding exercises' probably wasn't going to cut it.

She settled for: "I think we can keep the details of this mission between us. Dismissed."

As soon as the four had left, she murmured, "Aliens actually made them do it. Huh."

--

Rodney threw his erstwhile king-sized bag of M&M's onto John's bedside table a little harder than necessary. They hit it with a crackled 'thud' and bounced off again, skidding onto the floor then under the bed.

"I'll thank you not to damage my winnings," John said with a scapegrace grin. He leaned back against his pillows, hands tucked comfortably behind his head. "You can go get those."

Rodney ignored him and threw himself into John's desk chair with a huffy sigh. "She fell for it. I can't believe she fell for it."

"Well, our performances were Oscar-worthy, if I do say so myself." John shot Rodney an annoyed glance. "Even if you didn't start crying like you said you would."

"Hey, give me a break, Spielberg! It was all I could do not to laugh."

"I still think that perhaps we are being a bit unfair to Colonel Carter," Teyla piped up from her cross-legged seat on the bed. She picked an invisible piece of lint off of the knee of her pants. "She has done an admirable job as leader thus far under difficult circumstances."

Ronon looked up from his spot on the floor where he was quietly strumming on John's guitar. "She's tough; she can take it."

John waved at Ronon in a 'this is what I'm saying' manner. "When I get new Marines I make them take the most boring, eye-glazing shifts for their first month. When Rodney gets new scientists...well, he treats them like crap even if they're not new." He ignored Rodney's indignant squawk of protest and continued: "We should be allowed to indulge in a little harmless Atlantis-style hazing for our new leader, too."

"Besides, when we first arrived we woke up life-sucking aliens. Bogus expedition reports are a cake-walk compared to that," said Rodney. He harrumphed unhappily. "I still can't believe she fell for it. Sex fiends? That's not even creative. Everyone knows those are just rumors made up by horny Marines with puerile minds."

"No, they're not," Ronon said.

Three heads turned towards him in almost perfect unison.

"Excuse me?" John said.

Ronon stopped strumming for a moment to look up at them. "You've just never met the Hotua Poro. Hope that you never do; you'll be afraid to fall asleep for years."

Rodney swiveled around to stare at John and Teyla. "Is he kidding?" They both shrugged, and Rodney whirled back again toward Ronon. "You're kidding, right?"

Ronon just grinned.

_Fin_

_-- _

A/N2: The Hotua Poro are the Samoan form of the incubus. They are said to be demon lovers that come in the night while one is sleeping. Mythology lesson over:D


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